The Outcast
by HamsterChick126
Summary: Harry Potter disappeared when he was 4. Around the same time, Xantil, a Hunkil cub, appears with no memory of his previous life. Metamorph Harry. Rated M so I don't have to worry about it basically. Mentions abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**The Outcast**

By MonkeyQueen1262

Disclaimer- I own nothing!

Chapter 1- Memories Lost

It was the middle of the night. In a dark forest, a huge creature shaped similarly to a dragon sniffed at the ground. Its red eyes glowed out from its shadowed face, and there was the hiss of scales rubbing together as it moved deeper into the forest. It didn't notice the pair of emerald eyes following it from the treetops. They began to narrow as the creature headed further into the forest, then they vanished soundlessly into the dark.

Suddenly, the dragon-creature started to get excited and move faster, it had caught a scent. It turned sharply to the left, and didn't seem to notice that it was being led in a direction similar to the way it had come. At least, until it smelt its own scent. Then its head rose, and its red eyes narrowed, and it seemed to realize that it was being tricked. The emerald eyes had appeared in the trees again, and they seemed to be worried.

The dragon-creature glared into the trees. The emerald eyes blinked, then the creature swept down from the tree it was perched in and landed carefully behind the scaly creature. He was shaped like a wolf pup with smooth, sleek black fur. However, unlike a puppy, black, bat like wings sprouted from his back. He stalked up to the dragon-creature, which was the size of a young dragon. The wolf-creature crouched behind the dragon-creature and prepared to pounce. He appeared to size up the creature and plan the best method of attack, then he leapt up to the spot between the creature's wings. It roared and its head whirled around to try and bite him, but its neck couldn't reach far enough. The wolf-creature snarled and sank its teeth into the dragon-creature's wings. It howled and swung its wings around and the wolf was thrown from its back. It was hurled into a tree and it whimpered and pulled itself to its feet.

He growled and shook its wings out. Then he lunged back at the dragon-creature, using its wings to glide and it latched onto the weak point in the creature's neck scales. It howled, and tried to shake him off, but the wolf-creature's teeth seemed to grow longer, and sink deeper into the other creature's throat! The creature howled and screamed in terror and began to run to try to escape the wolf-creature. The wolf-creature let go and rolled into a bush. The dragon-creature was too terrified to notice and kept running.

The wolf-creature limped out of the bush and calmly observed the creature fleeing, his teeth shrinking back to their normal length. When it was well out of sight, he turned and headed into a hidden clearing in the forest. He was greeted by several of his kind fussing quietly over him, as many more slept nearby.

:: Silly cub! You should have come to us before open combat with a Calanus:: Echoed in the creature's mind. He rolled his eyes,

:: But Magana! By that time he would have found us:: The female creature sighed,

:: You know I just don't want you to get hurt Xantil! I just wish you didn't have to do things like this! You are a Hunkil cub, and Hunkil cubs should not have to fight Calani::

Xantil sighed and nuzzled Magana's face.

:: I know. You and your pack took me in, and I thank you for that, but you don't have worry so much about me::

Xantil was the only one in the clearing that hadn't been born into the Hunkil pack. He had no memory of the beginning of his life. When he was about five, he woke up in the middle of the forest with no memory of the first years of his life. For months he had wandered around, trying to figure out who he was, and why he was here. He had almost starved to death until he started hunting small, baby rabbits and the like. Then, after a year, he had narrowly escaped death by being mauled by a Calanus. He had hidden in a bush and passed out from blood loss, and had been found a few days later by Magana who had been searching for food. She had brought him back to her pack and they had healed him, and, when they learnt that he was on his own, they adopted him into their pack.

They had named him as Xantil, and accepted him as their own, but everyone could see he felt like an outsider. He felt like he was intruding on the pack, and as such he tried to separate himself. Of course- that didn't stop Magana from constantly fussing over him. She was defiantly a mother hen. She was the mate of Jamks, who was the pack leader. While Jamks was polite to Xantil, it was clear that he felt like Xantil was an intruder in the pack.

Xantil was defiantly a loner in the pack, but he didn't seem to mind it. Most of the Hunkils assumed that he had been a loner for the first part of his life too, which was why he seemed happy with it. That was another common topic of conversation between the Hunkil pack. He had been taken in by the pack two months ago, and everyone wondered why he had no memory of his past life. Most of them assumed that he was subconsciously blocking some terrible memory, but some were getting impatient. They didn't know this newcomer and he was a strange Hunkil. They wanted his memory to come back so that he could return to his previous pack, and it was showing in the way they looked at Xantil.

Xantil sighed as he curled up at the trunk of a tree, away from the rest of the pack. Sometimes, when he was being fussed over by Magana, he just wished he could stay, but he knew perfectly well that, if he didn't get his memory back sometime soon, he would risk being tossed out of the pack. He sighed and closed his eyes, but a tear leaked out from his closed eyelids. He knew that he had to leave. Soon.

As Xantil drifted off to sleep, far, far away, an old man sat at his desk rubbing his head. Albus Dumbledore was growing very weary. Voldemort was supposed to be dead, witches and wizards were celebrating. While Albus put up an optimistic front, he was loosing hope inside. He knew that Voldemort wasn't really gone, and he knew that he would come back. Albus sighed.

That blasted prophecy! It said that the Potter boy could defeat Voldemort! The boy DID survive, and Voldemort WAS stalled, but then, four years later Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, vanishes from his aunt and uncle's house. Albus groaned- it was his fault the boy had gone. He had KNOWN that his relatives didn't like the abnormal, but he had put little Harry with them anyway! He didn't think the Dursleys would go as far as physical abuse, yet that seems to have been exactly what happened. He should have listened to Mrs. Figg about the boy's bruises and his shyness. But he didn't, then the boy ran away and wasn't seen since.

Dumbledore had sent out his Order to search straight away, but the boy had eluded them. Soon, the searches had become less and less frequent and now, the boy was almost seven, and the only one with any hope that he was still alive was Remus Lupin. However, even Remus had started losing hope.

Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his eyes. He had a bad feeling in his heart. He could feel a dark presence growing somewhere it a gloomy corner of the world. He walked to his window and gazed out at the sinister forest outside. If only the boy hadn't disappeared.

end of chapter 1

So what did you all think? Please review and tell me!!!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Hello again everybody! I'm am dreadfully sorry for how long it has been, to be honest I'd almost forgotten entirely about this story! Anyone with any interest in it has Polish to thank for reminding me of its existence and my final return to it- after 3 years now! I've pretty much forgotten where I was originally planning on going with this, but we'll see how it goes! Happy new year everyone, hope you enjoy this!

* * *

Xantil had never been a fan of large emotional displays, and therefore wasn't one for long goodbyes. Early one morning he stirred himself from his uneasy slumber and quietly pushed himself to his feet, stretching out his stiff wings, slightly sore from remaining in the same position for an extended length of time. It was winter, the time of year when he found himself especially grateful for his thick, changeable Hunkil fur.

He turned to where the pack lay scattered around the clearing, a few couples huddled together for extra warmth, children cuddled up under the wings of their parents. His emerald eyes were somewhat wistful, he was somewhat sad to be leaving the family that had taken him in, but he was calm and accepting. This was his chance to make a new life for himself- a new chapter about to be opened.

Closing his eyes in slight concentration, he extended out his mind in search of the one most fondly connected to his. Gently nudging it, he opened the small mental connection already in place between them.

:: Magana.:: He whispered softly in her mind.

In the centre of the clearing, the motherly Hunkil stirred and shifted away slowly from Jamks, her mate, careful not to wake him.

Quietly trotting over to him, her soft amber eyes met with his, and comprehension entered them almost instantly when she saw him standing by the tree line.

:: Xantil. Are you sure? You do not have to leave.:: Xantil's eyes smiled calmly at her.

:: We both know that I couldn't remain here forever. But regardless, I feel that it is time for me to leave. Maybe the answers won't come to me because I need to search for them.::

:: You speak of your memories?::

:: Indeed. I need to find out what happened to me, and something tells me that this is the time.:: He turned his gaze to the pack behind her, then met her eyes once more. :: I am forever grateful to you Magana, you have cared for me and introduced me to your pack, and been so kind to me. I couldn't have asked for anything more. I will miss you more than you could know. I will also never forget all that Jamks and the pack have done for me, accepting me when I had nothing to offer in return. If you could tell them that I thank them, and give them my best I'd appreciate it.::

::You will not wait for them to wake and say goodbye?:: He smiled somewhat wistfully at her.

:: I'm sorry, I'm not one for long goodbyes. I wanted tell you though, you have been like a mother to me.::

Magana smiled slightly tearfully at him.

:: You will come and visit won't you? I love you almost as if you were my own cub, and the rest of the pack is very fond of you. The pups will miss you very much. And so will I, of course.::

:: Of course I'll visit, I couldn't just leave you lot never to see you again, especially after all you've done.::

She smiled at him, then lent back on her haunches and almost stood on her hind legs, pulling him into a tight, warm hug. Xantil happily returned it, burrowing his snout in her shoulder. After several long moments, they separated and Xantil nuzzled her face softly.

:: I'll miss you cub, I wish you the best of luck in your hunt.:: Magana murmured sincerely in his mind.

:: Same to you. Tell the others....well....tell them I couldn't have wished for a better family.:: She nodded to him, and then stepped back.

They gazed into each others eyes for a long moment, wordlessly communicating the emotions running through their heads, projecting them into the others minds in a far more meaningful manner than simplifying them in words. Then, with tears in both of their eyes, Xantil turned and walked into the forest, glancing back only once to the place that had become his home for the past few months.

* * *

Severus Snape sighed happily to himself as he strode the halls of Hogwarts, blissfully free of any bothersome students- the majority of which had returned home for the winter holiday. They had left just the day before, and thus Severus was enjoying it by escaping from his Dungeon retreat, which tended to become bitterly cold this time of the year. He had never minded the cold, but every once in a while it was good to enjoy the slightly warmer parts of the castle when there were no teenagers around to trigger his foul temper.

As it was, he was heading to the library to investigate a new load of books that had recently arrived. He had been told by the owlish, uptight Madame Pince (A/N- is that her name? I'm not quite sure) that several interesting Potions Journals by prominent masters of the art had been included in the selection. Not that any of those Potions Masters would be more intelligent than he- as he was one of the top few in the world, however someone could have thought up some new ideas, which he was fully prepared to appreciate.

At the thought of the books waiting for him, a slight smile curled up the corners of his mouth. He wasn't actually as much of a heartless, joyless bastard as the majority of the students would believe, but he had worked hard to cultivate that reputation, as to remain free from pestering students, and command the respect and fear of his classes.

Hearing footsteps around the corner, his half smile quickly morphed into a foul glare, which he directed on the student who was unfortunate enough to enter into his line of sight. Said student turned out to be a Hufflepuff first year girl, who, upon seeing this look, gained the wide eyed look of fear that he prided himself on being able to bring onto the faces of most of his students. Inwardly he smirked.

At just that moment, his good mood took a drastic turn for the worse. A hiss of breath escaped his thin lips and his face turned pale (even paler than usual). He grasped his right forearm in a vice-like grip and growled. Damn it, he had been having a good day as well.

".....lright sir? Sir?" The girl had a terrified, but worried look on her slightly pudgy face, and she spoke with some hesitation- clearly afraid of being snapped at for asking if he was alright.

"Do you have nothing better to do than stand around gawking all day girl? There are plenty of cauldrons in need of scrubbing if you have nothing better to do!" He snapped irritatedly, through teeth clenched subtly in pain. Predictably, the girl rushed off with a stuttered apology, hurrying to escape the possibility of being given a detention.

Snape himself strode swiftly the other way, in the direction of the Headmaster's office, even as the pain receded.

This was bad. The Dark Lord was growing stronger daily. Severus had been getting twinges of pain for a while, getting steadily worse. That could only mean that the supposedly dead wizard was regaining his power somehow.

"Fruit pastels!" The sour man spat at the gargoyle, and it stepped aside, revealing the spiral staircase behind it. With long strides he soon burst into the office at the top.

"Headmaster, it happened again. It was far worse this time. This can only be bad news." Dumbledore looked up from behind his desk with a concerned expression.

"Are you alright dear boy?" Severus rolled his eyes.

"My well-being is hardly the most pressing matter at the present time. And you of all people should know that I have suffered far worse from him. What is more pressing is what we are going to do."

Dumbledore sighed and ran a hand across his old, wearied face. It suddenly occurred to Severus that the man was seeming far more aged lately. While the man was at least over two hundred years old, he never tended to show his age. The fact that he was showing it now was enough to put Severus at unease.

"That is indeed the problem, Severus. At this juncture I don't think there _is_ anything we can do." There was clearly more than Dumbledore was saying on his mind.

"That is not the only thing you are thinking." It was more of a statement than a question, yet it clearly invited a response.

Dumbledore sighed again.

"No, my son, it is not. However my thoughts are on the one thing that we do not have." Severus felt his lips curl in a scornful sneer.

"I presume you speak of the Potter boy." He practically spat the name. Dumbledore met his eyes somewhat reproachfully and Severus found himself unable to suppress a tiny bubble of shame and turned away his eyes.

"Now Severus, we have had this conversation before. James grew up to be a great man, and regardless of whether you do or do not believe that, the boy is not his father. You cannot blame Harry for his father's sins as a teenaged boy. And that is even faintly irrelevant at this point, as the boy has been missing for two years now." At this thought the man seemed to grow even wearier than before and Severus felt almost felt slightly guilty for his comment. Almost.

"Headmaster, you know how much faith I put in prophecies, and I'm sure you know of my....great respect for Trelawney and her 'gift'," his voice was dripping with sarcasm, "A seven year old boy cannot be expected to single handedly take down the greatest Dark Lord of all time. Especially as said boy was found to be incapable of even lowering his mighty self to living with his ordinary, muggle relatives, and was probably spoiled so rotten that when he found himself denied something he felt he was so hard done by that he needed to run away. How could _he _be capable of such a great responsibility?"

Dumbledore leveled a disappointed look on Severus.

"I thought I was clear to you, Severus. You heard the accusations of Mrs. Figg yourself." Severus had gone with him to investigate Harry's disappearance.

"The ramblings of a half crazy woman obsessed with those blasted cats," Snape insisted scornfully, "probably fed complaints by the boy when he got fair punishments that he believed he was too good to accept."

Sighing once more (he seemed to be doing that a lot in this conversation), Dumbledore lowered his face into his hands. Severus utterly blinded himself to any indication that Harry could be anything other than what he saw James as. It would be impossible to convince him otherwise. Especially as neither of them had actually seen the boy since that fateful Halloween.

"Regardless of whatever you want to believe, Severus, I have decided to revive the searches for Harry. And I expect you to take part."

-------

While Severus began to rant at Dumbledore, a long way away Xantil was slowly crawling along in his search of who he was.

He had decided to begin his search where his memories begin, so he had returned to where Magana had found him several months before, and dug through his memory in an attempt to backtrack to where he came from 2 years before. Hunkils had quite incredible instincts, and memories the majority of the time. Without that he would have no idea where to begin.

As it was, his impeccable sense of direction had led him, over the week since he had left the pack, to the edge of the forest. As he stood staring out into the wide open space before him he felt a very daunting feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, and no _small_ amount of dread.

He had no memories of being out of the trees. They began here, at the edge of the forest. He was about to step off the precipice into a sea of uncertainty, containing unknown dangers and revelations.

This was the true beginning of the path of the discovery of his past and how he became the cub he was.

He spent a long time lingering just inside the edge of the tree line, in quiet contemplation. There was a good chance that he would not like what he found. There was a large likelihood that he had forgotten what had happened for a good reason. There was a good chance that he would regret learning whatever he was to discover. There was even a chance that he would never regain his memories.

But he was not the kind of Hunkil who could lie down and accept the ordinary, and accept ignorance.

Whatever he would find, it would be better than not taking the chance and always wondering.

With a deep breath, he put one paw forward and stepped out from behind the trees, into the bright light of morning.

---------

Yep, I think I'm getting back into things. School is a bit hectic at the moment so I'm not sure how often I'll be updating- but it won't be another 3 years- I promise!

Let me know what you think, if you have any ideas feel free to suggest them! =)


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